September 15, 2016

Hello, folks! Thanks so much for inviting me on the release of my newest novel, Obsidian Moons, book two of the Obsidian series. In Obsidian Sun, the first novel of this series, readers were introduced to the Talac and Varas, and the unique elements of their culture. In Obsidian Moons we are introduced to the Ubica who have an exclusive society of their own. Each Triad is comprised of three members: the forge, hammer and anvil. Each member of the Triad has specific characteristics, but I thought it might interest everyone to look at the weapon specialization of each member.

Oka is the forge for this Triad. The forge of each Triad is a master of thrown weapons. Legend says each forge carries a hundred blades. You can also see the throwing spikes in Oka’s topknot on the cover image. But Oka’s skills are focused on thrown knives and spikes.

Daya is the hammer of our Triad. Not too surprising his weapon of choice is the war hammer. These weapons look more like an ice ax than a traditional hammer. Daya sees himself as the protector of the other Triad members.

The final member of our Triad is Gurvan, the anvil of the Triad. As the anvil Gurvan is the spokesman for the Triad and carries a sword as his weapon on the battlefield. Gurvan’s sword is similar to the katana of medieval Japan. He’s skilled to where he can deflect arrows.

So there is a little more background on our newest culture in the Obsidian Series. I hope you enjoy reading more about the Ubica in Obsidian Moons.

Check out Obsidian Moons today!

Blurb:

After achieving the impossible and releasing their people from the Varas slavers, Anan and Terja, a spellweaver and spellspinner, start the arduous journey back to their homeland. A winter trek across the grasslands is dangerous enough, but the traitor, Xain, is tasked with recapturing the slaves, and failure will mean his death. As added insurance, the Varas High Regent hires a Triad of legendary Ubica assassins and assigns a full regiment of his personal guards, along with their captain, to the task. Their mission is clear: recapture the escaped Talac slaves destined for the Varas pleasure houses—and the bed of the High Regent—at any cost.

The newly freed Talac travel toward their homelands with the full knowledge they are likely being pursued. The flight westward is fraught with new and unexpected dangers as Anan and Terja struggle to save their tribe. The battle for shelter, food, and a way to defend themselves becomes an all-consuming task, but they are reminded by the avatars of their gods that all is not as it appears.

Author Bio:

Jon Keys’ earliest memories revolve around books; with the first ones he can recall reading himself being “The Warlord of Mars” and anything with Tarzan. (The local library wasn’t particularly up to date.) But as puberty set in he started sneaking his mother’s romance magazines and added the world of romance and erotica to his mix of science fiction, fantasy, Native American, westerns and comic books.

A voracious reader for almost half a century, Jon has only recently begun creating his own flights of fiction for the entertainment of others. Born in the Southwest and now living in the Midwest, Jon has worked as a ranch hand, teacher, computer tech, roughneck, designer, retail clerk, welder, artist, and, yes, pool boy; with interests ranging from kayaking and hunting to painting and cooking, he draws from a wide range of life experiences to create written works that draw the reader in and wrap them in a good story.

As the lamps were extinguished and the room darkened, Oka curled up facing the wall and tried to sleep. He listened to the night sounds around him, but they brought no comfort. They served only to emphasize the foreign setting. He’d surprised himself by sharing a secret of the Forge sect. It wasn’t forbidden, but as Gurvan pointed out, it wasn’t common unless the Triad was forged. For Oka, it seemed the right thing to do.

He felt the wounds of loss reopen as he thought about Ata and Lanvi. His Triad had been on their final contract and planned to forge the mating bond afterward. But things went terribly wrong. Oka missed an impossibly easy knife throw, and the target’s personal guards had burst through the door with crossbows loaded. The chaos had been short and lethal. His Triad had practically thrown him out the window to save him.

“Questioning their choice is not helping, Oka. They wanted you to live or they wouldn’t have protected you so you could escape,” said Gurvan when the silence stretched longer.

“And I let them. I fled faster than a rockdiver.” Oka cringed at the memory of scurrying away in fear. Retracing the event brought the same feeling of hollowness and pain it always did.

“The time will come when you must forgive yourself, or when you go to the Master Smith for reforging you will be found faulty.”

He searched for a response when a knock came from the thick wooden door. Gurvan motioned Oka to light a lamp.

He quickly struck the back of a blade against a piece of firestone he kept. The spark hit the lamp’s wick and a flame formed quickly. Gurvan moved beside him, and Oka handed him the flame. Oka saw he had a blade palmed as he moved to open the door.

Holding the light low, Gurvan cracked open the entrance. During the heartbeat that followed, Oka readied himself for a throw. He could only guess Daya was arming himself too. Only a fool disturbed a Triad under contract. But these Varas didn’t seem to understand the nuances of working with the Ubica.

“Let me in, fools!” hissed the voice from the other side of the door.

Gurvan’s eyes narrowed, causing Oka to tense, but then he opened the door wide enough to allow the nocturnal visitor admittance. The shadows moved but more lamps were not lit. Oka wondered why, but knew Gurvan would have his reason.

Oka’s vision adjusted to the flickering light and he recognized the furry Talac. Why would he come here? I can see Gurvan’s hand twitch with the need to feed his iron with this one’s blood. The Talac should state his business quickly.

“Why are you disturbing our sleep, slave?” Gurvan asked.

Oka was a little surprised Gurvan spoke so abruptly. Ubica tradition dictated a more hospitable approach, but he was the Anvil of their Triad. He waited to see what the Talac’s response to the offense would be. He was surprised to see the tall man fold into a bow of subservience.

“My apologies for disturbing you, Anvil. But I hoped for a moment of the Triad’s time.”

Gurvan’s only response was a low grunt.

The slave slipped into the room, his movement echoing those of a hunting longtooth. This was no helpless slave. Gurvan held the lamp higher and the two locked eyes.

This time with a short, less formal bow, the slave began. “My name is Xain. This mission is important to me. I know your contract is with the High Regent, but we will be working together and you will need my help, or you will be unable to complete your agreement.”

The muscles in Gurvan’s jaw tensed at Xain’s words. Oka could imagine only the forging with the Master Smiths kept the Talac alive. Then he noticed something else about the visitor. The Talac was wearing a spiritknife at his waist. How did he get the short sword? Only certain Triad Anvils carry that weapon. It was an incredible blade in the right hands. But even for someone of the Iron People, it was not to be treated lightly. Gurvan hadn’t been awarded one because their Triad wasn’t life forged. How the Talac had gotten one was beyond Oka.

“We will finish our mission, furry one. There is nothing you can tell us that we do not already know,” Gurvan said.

“You know the Talac magic? You know, the two you are assigned to kill have more skills than any Talac I’ve ever seen. I think they are blessed of the Twined Ones. I believe the spellspinner somehow survived akhir. No one since the clans were joined has survived akhir.”

Oka caught the twitch traveling along the dark skin on Gurvan’s face. A wash of surprise came over Oka. Gurvan doesn’t know. Or he hadn’t known. Interesting.

“What of it? And what do you ask of us? I’m sure even you are aware we will not go against the forging we have already created with the High Regent.”

The Talac’s expression changed even further. This was not a man Oka wanted at his back. “I want those two. The spellspinner and his mate. They destroyed my plans. Now I am living only at the grace of the High Regent. Do you have any idea what that means?”

Oka shook his head in a negative but Gurvan nodded, and his expression seemed to soften. After a moment of silence, he spoke to Xain. “We cannot help you directly. But our goals are similar. I understand you are marked, but our current forging is with him.”

Xain glared at Gurvan until the tension became palpable in the room. “You want to be my ally, Ubica. I am not a person you want to be pitted against. I am not the helpless slave you think I am.” Xain rested his hand against the spiritknife’s hilt.

Oka stepped from the shadows at the same instant Daya moved to Gurvan’s other side. Oka could see the eyes of the other two were echoes of their roles. Gurvan’s became the coal black of the anvil and Daya’s the shining silver of a working hammer. He knew from past experience his own eyes were the deep red and yellow from the forge.

Oka was pleased the combined energies of his Triad drove the Talac back until he was pinned against the door. Oka’s fire built as he watched the man who was rapidly becoming his prey. The feeding hunger sensed the fear from Xain until Oka twitched his arm and held three throwing spikes in his palm. Three, the sacred number, it’s a sign from the Great Smith. Oka tensed to launch the lethal missiles, but a heavy hand closed on his shoulder.

The fire he was about to unleash drained from him. He tensed as his desire faded faster than a drop of water against red hot metal. I will have words with Gurvan later. But I will play my role for now.

Gurvan spoke and this time it had the true ring of the Anvil. The almost crystalline chime in his voice traveled through Oka, soothing some of his fire. He glanced at Daya and got a small nod. Daya agreed with Gurvan. Tonight his fire would not be fed.

“Leave now and we will forget this ever happened. Don’t interfere with our forging again. Know that whatever you feared from the pair of weavers would be nothing compared to the wrath of a Triad of the Iron People,” Gurvan said.

The conflict in the room built until Oka thought he felt the waves traveling through him. Xain reached behind him, slipping across the face of the heavy wooden door until he reached the latch. Oka enjoyed the moments of fumbling as the Talac tried to open the lock. With the bolt’s click, the door pivoted open, and Xain slipped through.

Oka glared at the door as he calmed his racing heart. Once he thought he could speak to Gurvan with the respect due his station, he turned to catch his gaze. “Why would you—”

Gurvan silenced him with a flick of his hand. “You were unleashing the hunger of the Forge. I know the outlander carries a spiritblade, which will make our forging more difficult. I couldn’t allow you to send him to the Ancients for reforging. We have many obstacles ahead of us. There is no need to make it more difficult.”

The heat inside Oka built for a moment, and then he allowed Gurvan and Daya to calm him. Without looking at either of them, he returned the throwing spikes to their sheaths and moved to the corner and his sleeping mat.

“Oka, come. Sleep with us,” Daya said.

Oka stared at the two men for several moments. Do I want to become close to these two? They are different from Ata and Lanvi. Ata would never have quenched my fire. He enjoyed seeing me use it. But Ata is dead, and I have a second chance with Gurvan and Daya.

“Come. You can give us some of the heat you are filled with. These Smith-cursed northlands are cold,” Gurvan said with a throaty tone to his words.

Oka chuckled at the idea of Gurvan being affected by the cool temperature. It served its purpose too.

“All right. But don’t complain to me in the morning about feeling as if you’d slept with a live ember.”

Giveaway:

Answer a simple question in the comments and make yourself eligible for a free eBook from my backlist. The question? What was the Talac term for the youngsters who cared for their kuri herds. I’ll go through the comments on Sept 20th and select a winner.

If you have any other questions for me be sure and leave them in the comments and I’ll do my best to answer.